“Sheila, come on,” I begged. “I told you. My car broke down. I had to wait for the tow truck.”
“You could have called,” she said.
“I tried,” I said. “No one answered.”
“Why didn’t you try again?”
Fair question.
“We had to call someone else to cover your shift,” she said. “The day after Christmas is always busy, and you weren’t here.”
“I told you. My car —”
“You always have an excuse,” she said.
To be fair, the excuses about Gert had been true. I’d had more problems with her lately than usual. I seriously needed a new car. But that required money. Which required a job. Which Gert was making it incredibly hard to hold on to.
Well, Gert, and my hatred of the holidays.
“Look,” Sheila said as she rearranged a few picture books that had been tossed around by some kids a few minutes before. I was following her around the store like a pathetic, lost dog. “You were seasonal anyway. We were probably going to be laying you off in two weeks as it is.”
But that was two weeks’ worth of pay that I needed. Especially now that I owed Wesley for Gert’s repairs.
I just stood there, staring at her.
“Sorry, Sonny,” she said. “But you’re fired.”
I stormed out of the bookstore, pissed at Sheila and at Gert and at myself. I thought of calling Wesley, asking him to turn back around and come pick me up. But I took a deep breath and decided to be more proactive.
I was already at the mall, so I might as well start my job hunt right away.
I sighed as I headed toward the food court, remembering the day Amy and I had come here when I was first applying for new jobs.
Some days I felt like a rat on a wheel, running and running and running and never getting anywhere.
“Sonny?”
I was walking out of Daphne’s, a vintage-inspired clothing store, after dropping off my application. Ryder was standing a few yards away, a shopping bag in his hand and his green utility jacket slung casually over his shoulder. He looked like a model. Like a picture any one of these stores would have loved to have advertising their brand.
“Hey, Ryder,” I said.
“What’re you doing here?”
We said it in unison, then laughed together.
“If I was seven, I would yell jinx right now.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Such a shame we’re too old for — JINX! You owe me a soda.”
Ryder rolled his eyes. “Seriously?”
“Of course. I take these things very seriously. I prefer orange soda, by the way. Though I will also accept grape. No root beer, though. Disgusting.”
“Noted.” He glanced down at the stack of applications still tucked beneath my arm. “So, back to my question. What are you doing here?”
“Seeking employment.”
“I thought you worked at the bookstore?”
“No longer.”
“Oh. Sorry to hear that.”
“What about you? What brings you to the mall on this fine winter’s day?”
“Something just as fun.” He lifted up the shopping bags. “Returning unwanted gifts.”
“Unwanted gifts? That’s an oxymoron, Ryder.”
“You’ve never been honored with a present from my grandmother, then.”
“That bad?”
“She gave me suspenders once.”
“Well, I mean, those are making a comeback. Especially among hipsters like yourself.”
“I’m not a hipster,” he said. “And do I look like someone who wears suspenders?”
“I mean, maybe …”
“Bright purple ones?”
I giggled, trying to picture it. Ryder in his expensive blue jeans, red Goats Vote for Melons T-shirt, and bright purple suspenders. “No, not really. Though I would pay money to see it.”
“Yes, well, pay all you like. It’s not going to happen.” He sighed. “Luckily, I’ve been able to trade things in for items I would wear, so at least it wasn’t a waste of a nice gesture.”
Without saying anything, without planning it, we started walking. Together. Our shoulders nearly touching as we wove our way past families with strollers and seniors in tracksuits.
“So did Amy get you that pony?” he asked after we’d passed a few stores.
“Sadly, no. I’m very disappointed. We’re no longer on speaking terms because of it.”
“That’s a shame. You know she …”
I looked at him as he trailed off. My heart was already beginning to sink. Back to Amy. Barely a minute together and that’s what he wanted to talk about. I hadn’t even been texting him from her phone lately. At least, not much. Just a couple of times, once or twice, when the guest room felt especially lonely. But I’d definitely slowed down since the start of Christmas break. Especially after he brought her that gift. As far as he knew, Amy had never even thanked him for it. Yet he still wanted to talk about her.
He shook his head. “You know what? Never mind.”
Or maybe he didn’t.
“So where else do you have to drop these off?” Ryder asked, taking the applications from me and thumbing through them.
After Sheila fired me, I’d gone around the mall, picking up applications, then filled them out in the food court. Now I was just dropping them off.
“The candy shop. The smoothie place. And that sporting goods store on the other side of the building. You know, that one where all the middle-aged men in camo stand around comparing fishing poles for hours?”
Ryder grimaced. “You’re going to put an application in there?”
“My car broke down on the way here, and I have to pay for the repairs, so I can’t afford to be picky.” I took the applications back from him.
“Your car broke down on the way here?”
“Yeah. I had to call a tow truck. Thankfully, Amy’s brother was able to pick me up, so I wasn’t stranded long.” I slowed as we neared the candy store, and Ryder followed me in. He was quiet as I handed my application to the lady behind the counter, who wasted no time informing me that they weren’t hiring right now, but that they’d keep my application on file.
“Listen,” Ryder said as we were leaving the shop. “I was about to leave here, but I’d be glad to give you a ride home if you need one.”
“That would actually be great,” I said, surprised. “If you don’t mind. It would save my friends another trip out here.”
“I don’t mind at all.”
How had I ever thought this guy was a jerk?
I dropped off my last few applications, including, yes, one in the sporting goods store. After I handed it to the man at the counter, I sent a text to Wesley, letting him know I had found another ride home. Then I went in search for Ryder, who had wandered off somewhere in the few seconds I wasn’t looking. I found him looking at bright orange hunting jackets and vests.
“Thinking of changing your wardrobe?” I asked.
“Marveling at the fact that my grandmother hasn’t gotten me one of these yet,” he said.
“A blaze-orange vest would go splendidly with those purple suspenders.”
“My thoughts exactly.” He turned to me with a smile. “Are you ready to go?”
“Not until you try one of those on.”
“Ha-ha. You’re hilarious.”
“I’m serious,” I said. “If you do it, you’ll no longer owe me a soda.”
“No.”
“Oh, come on, Ryder,” I said, punching his arm playfully. “Be a little spontaneous for once.”
He hesitated, but I must’ve been persuasive because he sighed, resigned, and put down his shopping bags. “Give me your phone.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I don’t want you taking pictures to use as blackmail, that’s why.”
“Oh, that’s a great idea. But I don’t have a phone, remember?”
“You didn’t before, but you do now. I saw you using it a second ago. Hand it over.”
I sighed and passed him my new cell phone. He looked at it and chuckled. “Your name is on the case and everything. Worried you’ll forget who it belongs to?”
“Just shut up and put on the jacket.”
He shoved my phone into his pocket and turned to the rack of orange attire. After a second, he selected a coat. He tossed me his jacket, then slid the bulky orange monstrosity onto his arms.
It was impossible not to laugh.
“Please can I have my phone back?” I choked through the giggles.
“Absolutely not.”
“You just look … so different.” And he did. He didn’t look bad — hell, if all hunters looked like this, I’d be up in a deer stand in a heartbeat. But he didn’t look like Ryder at all. It was funny how one item of clothing could completely change a person.
“Looks great on you, kid,” one of the employees said as he walked past us. “You’re ready for deer season now!”
Embarrassment flooded his face. I doubted he’d ever been hunting in his life.
“He’s also in the market for a new fishing pole!” I called to the employee.
Ryder shoved the jacket off his shoulders, hung it back up, picked up his bags, and grabbed my hand, pulling me to the exit as I laughed, leaving the store employee looking very bewildered.
His hand was warm against mine, and it sent a spike of adrenaline through me.
“Happy now?” Ryder asked when we were away from the store, but I could tell he was holding back a laugh, too.
“Oh, very,” I told him. “Extremely, even.”
“Good. Then let’s get out of here before you try to make me play dress-up anywhere else.”
We stood there for a minute, our hands still locked. I waited for him to let go and hoped that he wouldn’t all at the same time. But, after a moment that lasted an instant too long, he did. And maybe it was my imagination, but I think he was just as disappointed to lose that contact as I was.
I traded his jacket for my cell phone and we headed outside, to his car. It wasn’t late, but it was already dark out. We walked close together, our heads ducked against a wind that had picked up in the hours since Gert had broken down. And as I climbed into the front seat of his car, shivering, I realized that the last time we’d been in a car together was in October, on another day when Gert had given me trouble and I’d been fired.
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